I'll always protect you
by Chloe Watton
Summary: This is the updated version of my story, 'Back to the past'. When Tobias' soul gets transported back to the day of the Choosing Ceremony, he meets Tris all over again. Will he be able to keep his secret? Will he be able to fix his mistakes and finally find peace with those he love?
1. Chapter 1

"Tobias Eaton."

Peter stands, his arms folded across his chest. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

"Where's Tris?" I demand. Peter gives me a look of boredom and innocence.

"Tris? I heard they found her body this morning."

I feel my chest tighten and my stomach twists violently. I clench my hands into fists and take a deep breath. _He's lying,_ I tell myself. _He has to be._

"I may not be Candor, but I know a lie when I see one," I say.

Peter opens his mouth, lost for words. His eyes are wide with shock. "You're one of them, aren't you?" He asks me. His voice is quiet but I hear every word. I smile at him. I know what he means. He knows I'm Divergent.

"Are you sure you're not Erudite?" I ask, my tone slightly mocking. His eyes harden, and his brow is furrowed. I see him slowly reach for his gun; I reach for mine.

"I see we both have the same intentions," I say, my voice calm. I'm not afraid of death. If he kills me, so be it. But I'm taking him down with me.

"What are you waiting for?" He spits. His tone is venomous, lacking emotion. And that's when I realise. Maybe David was right. Peter is broken. Caleb is broken. Everyone in Chicago is broken. Excluding the Divergent. I slowly start to see reason. The faction system made Peter the way he is; a coward, who always picks the side which benefits him. The side that promises him his life.

I raise my gun. He raises his.

I pull the trigger. So does he.

I feel a stabbing pain in my chest. I hear Peter whimpering, then falling silent. I have better aim than him; I probably punctured a lung. I look down. My blue shirt is drenched with red. I can feel the flow of blood down my stomach. I remember Caleb's words from the past. _A bullet to the chest is nearly always fatal._

Darkness overcomes my vision, and I splutter, blood dotting the floor beside me. I realise that I must have fell, but I don't remember. I can feel myself being slowly pulled into unconsciousness; the string's pull is stronger than ever. And that's when I realise that it's over. I'm done.

I feel my head hit the tiles and my world is swallowed into darkness.

* * *

I wake to the sound of beeping. I open my eyes, groggily, my vision still blurred with sleep. I see the blank, white ceiling above me, and the light hangs without a shade in the centre of the room. I sit up quickly, confusion causes my head to pound. For a moment, I feel dazed. I rub my eyes with the back of my hand, willing for my surroundings to change. I must be dreaming. Peter shot me. I'm _dead._

Annoyance sweeps over me as my alarm continues to scream. I feel a sudden urge to throw it against the wall, but I stop myself. Laziness is considered self-serving; Abnegation teachings seem to never leave me.

I throw the sheet to the side and step out of bed. I walk to the bathroom, stopping in front of the mirror. I glance at my reflection in disbelief. How am I here? It's impossible.

I stifle a laugh at my stupidity. I hate that I sound like an Erudite, but I can't stop the thoughts from whirling in my head. It isn't _logical. How can someone so broken have the ability to escape death?_

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The calendar shows me the date. It's the day of the Choosing Ceremony; the day where Tris chose to transfer to Dauntless. I don't have an explanation on how, but I embrace it. I have been given another chance to fix my mistakes. Maybe now everyone can be equal.

* * *

The crowd gathered by the net is bigger than ever. The Dauntless wait impatiently for the arrival of the initiates, talking excitedly among themselves.

I check my watch. The first initiate should be jumping any minute now. Lauren grabs my wrist and pulls me through the crowd.

When we reach the edge of the net, she turns on me, smirking. "Bet you the first jumper is one of my Dauntless-borns."

I smile. _You're wrong,_ I think. _If only you knew._

"Bet it's a Stiff," I say.

Lauren snorts. "Wanna bet?"

I laugh. "You're on. Loser has to run through the headquarters. Naked."

Lauren frowns at me. "That's what I was going to say," she says. "But ok, it's a bet."

I hear a scream from above, growing louder as it nears me. A grey streak tumbles through the air and collides with the net. I hear shocked whispers from behind me. Her grey attire shows her faction. Abnegation.

"I can't believe it," Lauren mutters from beside me. I try to hide my smirk.

Tris covers her face with her hands and laughs. I feel a strong desire to pull her into my arms and never let her go. But I can't.

I offer her my hand, and she takes it, smiling at me. I allow myself to return her smile, the corner of my mouth rises slightly. Her grey-blue eyes shine with excitement as I place my hands softly on her hips and lift her from the net. She stumbles when her feet meet the ground, but soon regains her balance. The blood rushes to her cheeks when she notices me staring at her. I quickly avert my eyes to the ground.

"What's your name?" I ask her.

"B...Be..." she stutters.

"Think about it, you don't get to pick again." I understand her insecurities. The Abnegation often have more religious, old-fashioned names. I abandoned mine in fear during my initiation. Nobody could know where I came from or who my father is. I left that in my past.

"Tris," she says, confident. I give her a small nod and turn to the now silent crowd of Dauntless behind me.

I jump as Lauren punches my arm. "Make the announcement, Four."

I clear my throat, the blood rushing to my cheeks. The Dauntless stand shoulder to shoulder, their eyes intense and demanding. "First jumper - Tris!"

The Dauntless cheer and clap their hands, all yearning to get a look at her. It's almost unheard of for an Abnegation to transfer to Dauntless; they are the most loyal to their faction. It would be veiwed as selfish to leave to satisfy their own needs, for whatever reason. Tris stands timidly behind me, her cheeks crimson. I have a strong desire to comfort her, to tell her it's going to be ok. Obviously she's nervous, she's from Abnegation. Dauntless is shockingly chaotic in comparison.

And then the next initiate drops into the net, her screams following her down. Christina. At first, I make no move to help her from the net. I remain still, my eyes on Tris.

This time I watch her more carefully. Her Abnegation clothes hang off her body and her silky hair is already beginning to fall from the bun. Her gray-blue eyes glisten with excitement and... fear?

I turn to walk away, and pause. Acting on instinct, I say, "Welcome to Dauntless."

The initiates wouldn't normally get welcomed to Dauntless so soon, especially with the new rules. Some won't make it to the end. But Tris is different; I know she makes the cut. I know we will be together. Now I just have to wait for the past to repeat itself, without my interferance.


	2. Chapter 2

Once all the initiates are safely in the compound, I divide the them into transfers and Dauntless-borns. Like before, the transfers stay with me and the Dauntless-borns go with Lauren. When Lauren has walked away with her initiates, Max informs me that three didn't make it. The two transfers are factionless and the Dauntless-born is dead. The news doesn't come as a shock to me; I knew it was coming. Though I still feel a dull dread in the pit of my stomach; that could have been Tris.

This time I already know how many transfers there are; nine in total. There should have been eleven.

"Normally I work in the control room, but during your initiation, I will be your instructor," I say, trying my best to imitate my 'Four voice' as Zeke calls it. "I'm Four."

I hear a giggle from the crowd; Christina. I try my best to keep my expression neutral. I know what comes next, and I brace myself for it.

"Four? Like the number?" She asks, a wide grin spread across her face. I know I shouldn't snap at her; she's from Candor. They have no filter, whatever they think, they say. But I can't help myself.

"Yes," I say. "Is there a problem?"

"No".

"Good. Now, we're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It…"

Christina snickers. "The Pit? Clever name."

A smirk threatens to tug at the corner of my mouth. I fight the urge to smile; I have always had a talent for hiding my emotions. I walk over to her, my expression neutral, and bring my face very close to hers. The closeness doesn't bother me as much as it did the first time.

"What's your name?" I ask, my voice quiet.

"Christina," she squeaks.

"Well, Christina. If I wanted to put up with Candor smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction," I hiss. "The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut. Got that?"

She nods.

I walk away from her, taking the lead again, and finally allow the smirk that I've been fighting to show. I try to convince myself that she had to be taught a lesson; she wouldn't survive here in Dauntless otherwise. But I can't help but think that I did it more out of amusement than concern.

When we reach the end of the corridor, I push open the double doors and walk into the pit.

I give the initiates a moment to take in their surroundings before I speak. I show them the chasm and explain about the reason behind it; there's a fine line between idiocy and bravery. When I'm finished with the basics, I lead them to the dining hall.

When we enter, the Dauntless all stand and applaud. They stamp their feet and shout in excitement. I see Tris gazing around the room, a huge smile evident on her face.

I push through the crowd toward the half-empty table on the other side of the room. I slump down into a seat near the end of the table, and reach for the nearest platter of food. My hand closes around a chicken leg.

A few moments later, I find that Tris is sitting next to me with her friends; Christina, Will and Al. I see Tris cautiously pinching the hamburger on her plate, her brow furrowed. I once again fight the urge to smile, and instead, I nudge her softly with my elbow.

"It's beef," I say. "Put this on it." I pass her a small bowl of red sauce.

"You've never had a hamburger before?" Christina asks.

"No," she says. "Is that what it's called?"

I don't feel the need to interact with them this time; I'm sure Tris can explain the Abnegation teachings better than me.

Tris shrugs. "Extravagance is considered self-indulgent and unnecessary."

Christina smirks. "No wonder you left."

"Yeah," she say, rolling her eyes. "It was just because of the food."

I've heard this conversation before, so I know what to expect. I pick at my chicken leg, my expression still carefully neutral.

The doors to the cafeteria open, and the room falls silent. Eric walks in, carelessly twisting the metal ring in his eyebrow. His eyes are cold and menacing as they sweep the room. I already know who he's looking for. Max has sent him to speak to me about my lack of interest in leadership.

I would be lying if I said that the idea of leadership was completely unappealing to me, because it wasn't. If Marcus wasn't a part of the government, I would have probably accepted the job when it was first offered to me. But this time I'm stronger. I'm no longer afraid of my father.

"Who's that?" Christina hisses.

"His name is Eric," I say. "He's a Dauntless leader."

"Seriously? But he's so young."

I give her a grave look. "Age doesn't matter here."

Deep down, I know she's right, but I can't bring myself to openly agree with a Candor.

Eric's eyes stop scanning the room, and he starts toward our table. I see Tris' eyes widen and Christina presses her lips together. I'm glad she's taken my advice. Eric wouldn't be willing to look the other way if someone were to argue with him.

He drops down into the seat next to me, offering no greeting to the initiates.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" He asks, nodding toward Tris and her friends. I press my lips together, defiantly. I will not act as his slave, not this time.

Eric rolls his eyes at me. He turns to Tris. "What's your name?" He barks.

Tris meets his gaze. "I'm Tris," she says. "And this is Christina."

"Ooh, a Stiff," says Eric, smirking at Tris. I see her wince, giving him a look of disgust. "We'll see how long you last."

Tris' eyes harden, and her upper lip twitches. She looks as though she's going to say something, but thinks better of it. I release a breath of relief.

Eric taps his fingers repeatedly on the table. I notice that his knuckles are scabbed and bruised, probably from hitting the punching bag too hard. I am reminded of our fight during our initiation. Eric was confident; too confident. He thought taunting me would help him win, but it did the opposite. He constantly reminded me that he knew my real name and where I came from. I finally snapped, and I couldn't stop myself. I kicked and punched until someone pulled me away. Only then did I realise what I was capable of, but I don't regret it.

"What have you been doing lately, Four?" He asks.

I shrug. "Nothing, really."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Max tells me he keeps trying to meet with you, and you don't show up," Eric says. "He requested that I find out what's going on with you."

I just look at him for a few moments, remaining silent. Max is trying to recruit me for leadership, again. I'm not angry, I understand why he's so persistent. Eric only got the job because of his alliance with Jeanine Matthews. I was, and it seems I still am, Max's first choice. I try to piece together the things I need to prevent; the attack on Abnegation, the strict initiation rules and much, much more. But it seems I can't stop these things from happening while in my current situation. Leadership is the only option I have.

"Tell Max I accept his offer," I say.

The rings in Eric's eyebrow catch the light. "What offer?" There's that suspicious probing again; he feels threatened by Max's extreme interest in me. I fight to keep my expression neutral. His Erudite is showing; it seems that our old factions never leave us. Eric isn't as Dauntless as he thinks he is, but neither am I.

"I believe that is between Max and I," I say. "It's none of your concern."

Christina covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh. Tris' eyes shine with amusement.

"I'll see you later, Four." Eric claps me on the shoulder, hard, and gets up. When he walks away, I see Tris slouch in her seat. I never realised how tense she was.

"Are you two… friends?" She asks, her curiosity overpowering her. I try to hide my disgust.

"We were in the same initiate class," I say. "He transferred from Erudite." I know I shouldn't have mentioned his old faction; he could destroy everything I've built for myself whenever he wants, but I don't care. They have to know what they're up against.

"Were you a transfer too?"

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to remain calm. I knew that this was coming, but I wasn't prepared. I was thrown off guard.

"Yes," I say quietly. "I was."

Someone from another table calls my name; Zeke. I get up from my seat, abandoning the untouched food on my plate, and head over to his table.

"Hey, man," he says, thumping me on the back. I wince as his fist hits the same place where Eric's did. "How's it going? You looked like you were having… fun.

I shrug my shoulders. "Same as usual, I suppose."

He nods. "What did Eric want?"

"Max sent him to talk to me about his offer," I say.

"And, what did you say?" He asks. I raise an eyebrow at him. Zeke isn't normally so interested in my personal life.

"Where's Shauna?" I ask, a smile playing on my lips. Zeke blushes.

"Still at the fence," he says between mouthfuls of his hamburger. "So? What did you say to Eric? He looked pissed."

I smile sheepishly. "I said yes."

Zeke's eyes widen. "What? You said _yes?_ I thought leadership didn't appeal to you?"

"I have my reasons," I say. I expect him to press me for more information, but he just nods. His eyes show curiosity, but even Zeke knows when to stop.

"I'm proud of you," he says. I stifle a laugh.

"Thanks," I say. I can feel the heat rushing to my face. All the attention is making me uncomfortable; I can see the other Dauntless members on our table leaning slightly closer to eavesdrop. I try to change the subject. "Bet you can't wait for Shauna to get back."

"More than you can imagine!"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in almost a month, I rarely get time to write now :( But I will not give up on this story!**

* * *

"Four?"

The mention of my name brings me out of my daze. I look around, confused. My thoughts had been elsewhere. I see Max standing in the doorway, his eyes on me. He gives me a small nod, and I head toward him.

"Evening, Four," he greets me. "Did Eric pass along my message?"

"He did."

I know what he's about to ask, so I beat him to it. "I accept your offer."

He looks at me for a moment, the certainty in his eyes is replaced with bewilderment. I smile to myself. It amuses me that he is so sure that I'll reject his offer, yet he asks me anyway. For over two years, I have convinced myself that I'm happy with the current position that I hold, yet the idea of leadership sparks some kind of unknown excitement within me that I never knew I had. Max quickly regains his composure.

"What changed?" He asks. His question comes as a shock to me. I was expecting more of a positive reaction.

"I…um, I don't know, Sir," I say. I know the real reason why I changed my mind; it's the only way I can save Abnegation. Marcus has always found a way to cloud my judgement and influence my strong hatred for my former faction, but I have to remind myself that not all Abnegation are monsters.

"Okay," he says. I sigh in relief. It doesn't seem that he's going to push me for more information. "You won't have to participate in training as you did it during your initiation. I'll call a meeting with the other leaders to confirm your transition to leadership."

"Yes, Sir," I say.

He looks at me sternly. "I just came to inform you that you won't be needed anymore tonight."

I nod.

Max gives me a small smile, and leaves me alone, standing in the hallway with only my thoughts to keep me company.

* * *

After dinner is over, I slowly make my way to my apartment. I wonder whether Eric will still oversee the trainings when I'm officially a leader too? I don't hold much hope that Max will still allow me to train the initiates while also holding much greater responsibilities.

As I open the door to my apartment, the image of Tris, bruised and beaten, is brought to the front of my mind. I see her sprawled on the ground, Peter punching and kicking her violently. I grit my teeth. I won't let that happen again.

In an attempt to clear my head, I take a cold shower before changing into a more comfortable ensemble of a baggy t-shirt and pajama shorts. I wrinkle my nose at my reflection. I would never dare wear shorts outside of my apartment; I'm too self-conscious of my appearance. I run my fingers through my hair before pulling my eyes away from the mirror and climbing into bed.

I stare up at the ceiling, willing for sleep to possess me, but as always, it chooses to evade me. Tomorrow seems so close, within touching distance, yet so far. The thought of defecting to join my mother and the factionless no longer crosses my mind; I finally feel at home here in Dauntless. I picture Tris, laughing and joking, her blue-grey eyes gaze intently into mine. I remember the way she used to say my name, her voice filled with so much love and adoration. Her face is the last thing I see before sleep tugs me into oblivion.

* * *

"The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun. The second thing is how to win a fight," I say. "Thankfully, if you're here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that." I realise that I'm using my 'Four voice'. I can hear the slight hint of sarcasm in my tone, and I try my best to hide it. I constantly remind myself that I was one of them once, uneducated and oblivious to the Dauntless customs and expectations.

Tris frowns at the gun in her hands, holding it away from her body as far as her arms will allow. I smile to myself.

"Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stages are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time."

"But what…" Peter yawns through his words. "What does firing a gun have to do with… bravery?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. I've always knows that Peter's conceited personality would sometimes overpower the few Dauntless traits that he happens to possess, but his stupidity never ceases to amaze me. I flip the gun in my hand and press the barrel casually to his temple.

"Wake. Up," I snap. "You're holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it."

I slowly lower the gun. When Peter is sure that the immediate danger is gone, his green eyes harden. I see Tris trying to hide her smile.

"And to answer your question… you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." I pause at the end of the line and turn on my heel. "This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me."

I face the target, my feet apart, and wrap both hands around the gun. I push all thoughts from my mind and fire. With a crack, a hole appears in the centre. After a moment, I step back, allowing the initiates time to practice.

Tris raises her gun awkwardly, trying to balance the weight in her hands. She closes her eyes and clenches her teeth as she points the gun at the target and fires. She winces at the sudden bang and the recoil sends her hands back towards her nose. She stumbles, pressing her hand to the wall behind her for balance.

She fires again and again, and none of the bullets come close to the target. I frown. I never knew how tough initiation was for her the first time; her slight built and Abnegation upbringing is almost an impossible combination. I scold myself, promising to pay equal attention to each of the transfers.

A small crease appears between her eyebrows as she talks to Will. When she turns back towards her target, I can see the newly found determination in her features. The corner of my mouth twitches. I recognise that look; the desire to prove herself. I can't help but wonder what Will had said to her.

When she fires, a hole appears near the edge of the target. She smiles in satisfaction. I can almost hear the thoughts running through her mind. Despite her doubt, I know that she belongs here.

* * *

 **A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent or any direct quotes used.**

When all the initiates have hit the target, I escort them to the dining hall for lunch. I notice that the transfers and the Dauntless-borns sit at different tables, making the differences between them obvious. I sit at an empty table on the far side of the room, away from everyone and everything. My stomach twists violently at the thought of what's about to happen. Watching the initiates fight one another makes me sick. It depresses me to watch untrained, vulnerable soldiers fight until one cannot continue.

After losing all hope of regaining my appetite, I abandon my untouched food and head to the training room. I sigh in relief when I find that it's empty.

I walk lazily around the room, straightening punching bags and retrieving mats from the cupboard. The knot in my stomach tightens as my fingers brush across the stained fabric. The texture is rough and flakes of dried blood shower the floor.

"What are you doing?"

My hands tighten subconsciously around the mat in my hands. "I'm riding a unicorn," I say, my tone sharp. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Eric's eyes narrow in suspicion. He carelessly tugs at a loose thread from the punching bag nearest to him. After a few moments, he raises his head slightly to meet my gaze.

"I'm only going to ask you once," he says, his voice dangerously quiet. "What are you doing in here alone?"

I raise an eyebrow at him questioningly. His expression is familiar, one of accusation and suspicion. I fight back a smile. His Erudite is showing.

"I'm doing my job," I say simply. I make a show of checking my watch, and give a careless shrug. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I have initiates to train."

* * *

"As I said this morning," I say, "next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges – which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless."

"We will go over technique today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other," I say. The thought of them fighting one another makes me sick; it reminds me that Dauntless is changing. "So I recommend that you pay attention. Those who don't learn fast will get hurt."

I name a few punches, demonstrating each one as I do, first against the air and then against the punching bag before allowing them to begin.

After a few minutes, I start to walk around the room, judging each initiate by skill, strength and stance. Edward is the best; his punches are well measured and powerful, a clear sign of practise.

"Keep it up, Edward," I say. He gives me a small smile, pride shining behind his eyes. He nods, and turns back to his punching bag.

Peter is next to Edward. He is easily second, his stance is good and his punches show potential. He glares at me as I pass him, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. I turn on my heels, and before I know what I'm doing, I find myself clutching the fabric to Peter's shirt, my face very close to his. He stares at me wide-eyed.

"Don't get too cocky, Candor," I spit. I slam my hand into his chest as I release his shirt and walk away.

I stop in front of Tris, my eyes following her body from her head to her feet.

"You don't have much muscle," I say matter-of-factly, "which means you're better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."

Just like before, I reach out and press a hand to her stomach. I can feel her heart pounding in her chest as she stares at me wide-eyed. I give her a small smile.

"Never forget to keep tension here," I say in a quiet voice. I lift my hand and walk away.

* * *

"Where's Shauna?" I ask, dropping carelessly down into the seat next to Zeke.

He twirls his fork slowly around his plate, frowning. "She had to go back to the fence. Nita got ran over by an Amity truck so she had to cover for her."

"Nita?" I question, my voice strained. It can't be her; it's not possible. She wasn't here last time, was she?

"Yeah," he says. He turns in his seat to face me. "Who was the first jumper? Gus wouldn't give me the day off; I couldn't be here."

I clear my throat. "It was a Stiff."

Zeke snorts. "What? A Stiff, the first to jump? Unheard of."

The corner of my mouth twitches up in a smile. "It's true."

Zeke's smirk widens to a grin. "My brother is never going to hear the end of this," he laughs. "At least _I_ was the first jumper."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated in a _long_ time, but hopefully this makes up for it. I've always wanted to see a fight between Eric and Four in the books, so I thought I'd try it out for myself.**

* * *

I lean against the chalkboard, my hand stuffed into my pocket in what anybody would see as a casual way, but my muscles are tensed. I glance back at the piece of paper in my hand for what seems like the twentieth time. The same names glare back at me accusingly, like they already know what's going to happen. I turn to look back at the board. Tris isn't fighting today, I made sure of that. The fights remain the same as before, so I already know the result.

"Are you done with that list, yet?"

I clench my teeth, hard. "If you wanted it finished any faster, then you should have done it yourself."

Eric raises a brow, his lips pressed into a line. He takes a step closer at an attempt of intimidation, but I have to fight the urge to laugh. His expression hardens. "Remember who has the authority here, Four." He spits my name back at me in accusation. "Here, and everywhere else."

I cross my arms over my chest and give Eric a questioning look. "The last I heard, I'm officially transitioning into leadership as of tomorrow. You have no control over me anymore."

Eric's eyes are on fire, and I find it hard to think back to the last time I saw him this angry. A muscle in his jaw ticks. "So that's what Max wanted to speak to you about." It isn't phrased as a question, like he already knows the answer and doesn't need any justification.

I give him a mocking smile. "Not just then, Eric. I was _always_ Max's first choice. You're a pawn of Jeanine Matthews, and you only got the job because of her… connections."

Eric's clenched fists shake slightly, and he takes a sharp intake of breath. Eric isn't one to lose his temper this easily, so I know I must have hit a nerve. "You're lying!" He slams a meaty fist down on the old wooden table with exaggerated force. "You were never Max's first choice. He only offered you the job because he felt sorry for you. A little abused boy from Abnegation with daddy issues? How could you possibly believe you can fit in here when you can't even confront your own father, _Tobias?"_

I fight to keep my expression calm. Eric is grasping at straws, trying to do anything to make me break. He may have had something on me before, but I made peace with my fear of Marcus. I am no longer afraid.

I lean in closer towards him until my face is only inches from his. "Yeah? And what does that make you? An Erudite know-it-all who lost a fight against a _Stiff?_ A little, weak, pathetic child from Abnegation with daddy issues? You can say what you want about me, Eric, but at least I know where I stand."

I step back and reach for the piece of chalk from the table. I offer it to him, my lips curving upwards slightly. "By all means, be my guest."

A moment of silence passes, and I can feel the tension building. Eric's whole body shakes in rage.

And before I can register what's happening, Eric is clutching the front of my shirt and my head hits the wall, hard. His expression is manic, and I finally realise that he's snapped. Whatever little control he'd had before was long gone now. "Don't test me, Four," he hisses through clenched teeth. His fingers dig into the soft skin of my neck, and I grimace slightly. His many piercings glisten in the light, and the holes they occupy widen. "You may have beaten me before, but things have changed."

I can feel my temper spiking. Pushing all thoughts of the consequences from my mind, I draw back my leg and kick him, hard. He tries to twist away from the kick, but my foot hits him hard in the ribs. His grip on my shirt loosens, and his free hand rushes to the left side of his body. Taking advantage of Eric's weakened state, I twist from his grip and push him away from me with as much force as I can muster. He stumbles backwards, but quickly regains his balance. He has been apart of Dauntless for far too long to be affected by a mere push. The blood rushes to his cheeks and I notice his muscles tense through his shirt. Too fast for me to realise what's happening, Eric rushes forwards, fast, his fist hitting my square in the jaw. I step backwards, my hand cradling my face. Eric has an advantage. My actions aren't fuelled by an uncontrollable rage from his taunting words. This time, I'm on my own, deeply relying on my own skill to bring me to victory.

My anger intensifies as Eric gives me a smug smile. I notice his left hand still rests on his hip from my previous blow, and despite the pain in my lower jaw, I smile in satisfaction.

He tries to hit me again, aiming for my face for the second time, but I turn away from the blow and his fist connects with my shoulder. I wince as a jarring pain shoots through my body like electricity. I look up just in time to see Eric inspecting his fist.

I feel my pain disappear into anger. I will not let him beat me, not now.

I grasp him around the throat to hold him in place as I hit him again, and again, and again. I don't care where I hit him, so long as it hurts.

Using all the strength I can manage, I push him hard against the chest. He staggers backwards, cradling his fist against his chest. Just when I think he's going to run at me again, the initiates walk into the room in small groups, talking quietly among themselves, oblivious to what they'd walked in on.

Eric turns his head a fraction away from them and quickly wipes the blood from his lip with the sleeve of his jacket. His eyes meet mine for a brief instant before he looks away. His jaw is set in determination.

And that's when I realised that I did the worst thing I could have possibly done. I provoked Eric. His eyes scan the group of initiates mercilessly, and I know he won't go easy on them, especially now. Every one of them is going to be pushed to their breaking point today, and possibly even further. The relief that Tris isn't fighting today floods through me, and I stand, awaiting Eric's next move. I already know the day will be far worse than last time, and it hasn't even started yet.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait, but I'm back! From this point onwards, my stories will be updated regularly and at least once or twice a week. Sorry for the short chapter, but things are going to change starting from now. The plot will roughly follow the same outline as the original one, but Four's influence will change many things... I hope you're ready...**

* * *

Eric stands at the edge of the mat, idly twisting one of the many metal rings in his eyebrow. He doesn't care about any of them. He's enjoying this.

I clear my throat as I walk over towards the group of initiates. They all stand in silence around the outside of the mat, none of them daring to speak. Christina's eyes are wide, and Tris' hands are clenched into fists at her side. Last time, Al had beaten Will with ease. What had happened differently this time?

Eric's eyes flicker to mine for the briefest of instants before he looks away. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and the sunlight reflects off the many piercings in his face. He thinks he's won, I realise with a start. He still thinks he's better than me.

I grit my teeth and turn my back on Eric. If he keeps looking at me the way he is right now, I'll snap.

I busy myself with straightening the punching bags and mats as Eric introduces the first two fighters; Tris and Edward.

"No," I hiss between clenched teeth. My muscles go rigid and my breath catches in my throat as I try to regain my composure. "No."

"What did you say?" Eric's voice is dangerously soft and barely above a whisper.

I turn slowly, my arms tense against my sides, and look him in the eye. "I said no."

"You don't have a say in the matter." Eric reaches for the stick of chalk and scribbles down Tris' name in the empty space next to Edward's on the score board. "I have the authority here. Not you."

I lean against the door frame in what anybody would think to be a casual way and shrug my shoulders. "Ok," I say, nodding my head, "but I don't think Max would approve. A true Dauntless wouldn't take pride in forcing a skilled soldier to fight a… less able one."

I instantly regret the words the moment they leave my mouth. My eyes flick to Tris'. Her expression is guarded, though I can see the hurt in her eyes as the blood rushes to her cheeks when a dozen pairs of eyes turn to her. Eric thinks she's weak, and that's her advantage. I can't slip up now and let Eric see my true intentions towards her.

Eric's eyes narrow, but he doesn't say another word. He pulls his jacket over his hand and rubs Tris' name from the blackboard, filling the now empty space with Peter's name instead. I take a deep breath. Tris is safe for now, but for how long? Eric is already getting suspicious, and the Erudite part of him won't give up until he knows the truth.

The room falls silent as Eric addresses the group, and the fights begin.

* * *

I trudge to my apartment well past dinner time. The initiates were dismissed hours ago, but I was forced to stay behind and put away all of the equipment. The dark corridors are eerily quiet as I pass through, but strangely, it doesn't bother me; my mind is too preoccupied.

I pause at the entrance to the Pit. It is strangely vacant, apart from those who are huddled around the bar with a bottle in their hand, talking quietly among themselves. After much deliberation, I turn, heading down the small, rocky path leading to the river. Very few people know about this place. I come here when I need to clear my head.

The water rushes over the jagged rocks, the violent current smashing against the side of the huge boulders. I squat at the edge of the river, putting my bruised and bloodied knuckles into the cold water. Today's events still seem like a bad dream. I don't usually lose my temper so easily, but if anything, today showed me that I can't pretend not to know her. I can't treat her the same I do the other initiates. She means too much to me to simply block her out.

Cautious footsteps treading down the path behind me cause me to look up. I hurriedly pull my hands from the water and tuck them into the pockets of my jacket as I stand, leaning casually against the side of a huge rock.

The shadow walks straight past me, unaware of my presence, heading straight towards the river.

I step from the shadows and clear my throat. "You're not going to jump, are you?"

The figure turns around, stumbling slightly as the heel of their foot slips from the edge of the rock. They quickly regain their balance. "Why do you care? I'm _less able_ than everybody else. Nobody wants me here."

Her voice rises slightly as she finishes her sentence. She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."

I shake my head, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "Yes, you did." I run a hand through my hair, leaning back against the rock. "I guess I deserved it, though."

Tris tries to smile, but it looks forced, unnatural. "I'm still sorry." The raven tattoo gleams under the light, the three birds on a path of flight towards her heart. I almost smile. _Almost._

* * *

 **Sorry for the abrupt ending, but it was needed for what happens next... Prepare yourselves...**


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